


Cool

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to put him in school, and if you weren't busy trying to make money to keep a roof over his head in this world where neither of you belong, you would be all about home schooling. You have to prepare him for the game. You only got eight years left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool

It's his first day of school, and you're terrified.

But you got to keep it cool. You have to. You can tell he's terrified as well, but he's trying to be tough. You're proud of him for that, but you know you're the reason he's calm; he looks up to you like you're on some godly pedestal, and you have to set examples as the center of his world. Acting like the first day of school is no big deal is the most important example you have to give right now.

Neither of you are normal. You know this to be true. You were expecting him, and waiting for the day, whenever it came, for him to arrive. You found your brother at the remains of your old favorite record shop, flown in on a meteor with a pony, and he had red eyes, too.

And kids are harsh, the world is harsh, and you're afraid he's not ready for the punches it might throw at him.

That's why you're walking him thirteen blocks rather than letting him ride the bus. One day you will let him, but not yet. In one hand is his, clasped tightly to your own, the other a jug of water in case the poor tyke gets hot and thirsty.

You are waiting for a stoplight to change when his sweet little voice calls out, "Bro?"

"Sup." You try your best to turn casually to look at him, even though on the inside you are worried as fuck and want to pick him up and inspect him to make sure he's okay despite not even knowing what he was going to say. You wonder when you became such a parent. You quickly don't care right now.

"Are we there yet?"

"Halfway."

" _Uuughhh_ ," he groans in that cute way of his and you chuckle. "I don't wanna go to school if we have to walk all over every single _day_."

"Deal wit it, little guy." You give his blond hair a quick ruffle, before you both cross the street, holding his hand tighter than before.

He is a bright little flame in your life, and you hope you can make it a raging fire.

You both reach the school, and it isn't miraculous; you went here, and it's just your run of the mill public school with low funding. You doubt it's changed much since then, but hey. You have to put him in school, and if you weren't busy trying to make money to keep a roof over his head in this world where neither of you belong, you would be all about home schooling. You have to prepare him for the game. You only got eight years left.

You decide you can get fucking sentimental up in here, and you kneel down beside the boy, his small hand still in your own.

"Hey bud. Don't let any motherfucker get you down, alright? And don't call people motherfuckers."

"Yeah," he says in that determined voice of his that is so cute that you cannot resist the grin that goes across your face. Or giving him a hug.

"You show them what's up, got it?"

"Got it, Bro."

You get up and nudge him along after letting him have a drink from the jug. He goes off into the schoolyard, looking calm and collected, and despite looking like a loner cool guy, he quickly amasses a few kids, probably due to his fucking awesome sunglasses.

You suddenly realize you have nothing to worry about.

 _Thatta boy._


End file.
